Promises
by FlopsyOllie
Summary: Didn't think you could be bothered.Being a rockstar's a full time job.Kinda like being a single mom." Crellie
1. Chapter 1

Promises

Tours across Canada. Fun? Yeah, sure. Exciting? Duh. Exhausting? Big, fat yes. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life, except that time I stayed up all night on the phone with Ellie cause her dad died and her mom was at it again. It's like being a zombie, which isn't a nice feeling. I need to drink at least four cups of coffee to get me psyched enough to go out on stage. A little coke rush helps too, but that's another story.

I've been at it for a month, touring around the Great North with my band, playing shows every night. I'm in a particularly nasty mood because the next three shows are in Toronto. Yeah, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, my old home. I'm not exactly thrilled to see any of my old peers. Maybe none of them will come to the show. Actually, they probably won't. I lost touch with all of them after the cocaine incident, especially Ellie. And that was thirteen years ago. Yes, thirteen. Yep, I'm thirty two now, living the rock star life, still single. Surprised, eh? Never thought Craig would make it big? Trust me, I didn't think so either.

I didn't mean to stop talking to them. I just got so busy. And the one person who I really wanted to talk to --yeah, _that_ red head-- wouldn't give me the time of day. So it wasn't really my fault. Being Craig Manning can get pretty tricky, believe it or not. Recording deals, first, second, third albums. Opening fan mail (_All_ of it. You never know. Might be something important.), sleeping in expensive hotel rooms, late night parties. Yeah, fun, fun. Actually, parties where I don't know anyone are awkward, especially when everyone around you is getting drunk. Screaming girls are great, but sometimes quiet would be nice. All of it gets old after a while. But once you're famous, you can't go back, right?

So anyway, we pull off the road into the civic center parking lot, and it's like I'm reliving it all over again. I used to go to this civic center, to see concerts just like mine. Now I'm up on stage performing instead of standing in the crowd. It's kinda weird. Just goes to show how weird life can be, I guess.

"Hey, Craig? You up for this?" my lead bass and back up vocals, Jason, asks. I find it funny how he actually looks a little like Marco. I think they're both Italian or something. Cody, guitar and back up vocals, it the complete opposite of Jimmy. He also can walk. The only thing that my drummer, Kaycee, and Ellie have in common is that they're both female and they both have/had pink hair. Okay, so Kaycee is blond with black and pink streaks, and Ellie's hair was only pink (and sometimes black) in grade 9, but that still counts, right?

"Yeah, I'm okay. Toronto just sucks."

"Dude, you grew up here, and it sucks?"

"Let's just say I had some issues… with people back here. Not looking forward to all the 'fond' memories."

"Whatever."

I sip my third coffee while unpacking my guitar. I always wondered what this backstage looked like. How someday, maybe I'd be up here, performing sound checks and sipping my coffee with hot girls. This backstage is just like the rest, and it's not that exciting. Just me, my band, security guards, coffee, and no hot girls. Well, Kaycee's kinda cute, but she's like my sister. Besides, Cody and her have this weird thing going on. No need to get in the way.

"Fifteen minutes to show, people!" some guy shouts, with a headset and clipboard. He's freaking out, like all the other dudes like him I've seen this past month. Ready for anything, earthquake, avalanche, explosion, terrorist attack, mutant bunnies. You name it, I bet he's got a plan. The most paranoid guy in the world, convinced something will go wrong.

I can hear the faint roar of fans coming from somewhere around me, and I smile as I tune my guitar. It's such a rush, almost as great as a cocaine rush. Yeah, you got it, rehab did no good. I tried, honestly, I did. But, hey. I'm an addict. And I just can't shake it.

Ellie's an addict too. A masochist. Addicted to pain. Addicted to cutting. That's why she never gave up on me. She liked the pain, liked that I hurt her (well, not exactly, but I bet it didn't bother her as much as some girls). A sickening addiction, actually. I feel bad for her. But this isn't the time to be thinking about Ellie Nash. I've got a show to do, fans to please. A guitar to tune.

I used to get so sick of the pain. I just wanted to mash it up into a big ball and throw it to somebody else. Let it be their problem for once. But then I learned that the pain would always be there. It would never go away. It just couldn't hurt me, unless I let it. If I stayed strong, had high hopes, it couldn't touch me. I was invincible. Pretty cool, right? Yeah. Except staying invincible all the time is pretty hard to do. Impossible, actually. And so there it goes, again.

Kaycee's already out on her drums, throwing out beats and having the crowd mimic her with claps. Jason will join in soon, and then Cody. Then I'll walk out, and the screaming will really start to happen. We'll play the show, stop for a few autographs, and it'll be over. Off to a different show, different people, same routine.

Why is that, anyway? Why do we live our lives in a pattern? Just repeating it over an over? How come I've been the same stupid coke addict rock star for thirteen years? How come I never got married, had kids? Why was I always so afraid to be persistent? Bug Ellie so much that she had to answer my phone calls, respond to my emails?

"And now, please welcome to the stage… Craig Manning!!!"

Just why is that, huh? And how come I've got no fucking idea?

I

The show goes according to plan. I don't get hit in the head with a shoe, a speaker doesn't explode. No evil villain shows up to steal everyone's eyebrows or something. Toronto actually doesn't seem so horrible anymore. It feels like it'll be okay, as soon as I can get back on the tour bus and collapse on my bed.

I sit at a table, signing autographs for all ages. I've got some fans as young as six, old as seventy. I've signed everything, too. Shirts, heads, water skis. I even signed a girl's bra once, which was a little awkward. But, hey. By signing it I probably just made their week, maybe their month. So why not?

I glance casually at the girl who steps in front of me. She's wearing a bunch of studded bracelets and a gray AC DC hoodie. Her hair is up in a side ponytail, and she's smiling at me with these perfect teeth, like I'm God or something. Her smile reminds me of someone, but I can't figure it out. She hastily pushes at me a picture of me from high school in my garage, holding my guitar. I wonder where she got this picture. Probably off the internet. You wouldn't believe the stuff of mine I've seen on the world wide web. I think some of it might actually _be_ mine, too.

Oh yeah, she's got fiery red hair. So that just sends me for a complete loop.

"Hi. You can make it out to Holly Nash," she says, "I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. Amber's gonna be so jealous."

Hold it a sec. _Nash_? As in, Ellie Nash? As in, the love of my life Nash (well, not my whole life, but about fifteen years worth)? You've got to be kidding me!

"Don't you love the picture? My mom gave it to me. I dunno where she got it…"

So I'm just sitting there, holding the Sharpie numbly, staring at this Holly girl. Who I think is Ellie Nash's daughter. Wait, since when does she have a daughter? Since when is she married?!

"By any chance, is your mom Ellie Nash?" I ask cautiously. I don't want this girl to think I'm a stalker or anything. I've gotten that before. It was oh so not fun.

"Yeah, how'd ya know?"

"I think I used to know her. A long time ago. Went to school with her."

"That's cool," she says, and I'm glad she's not screaming, like any other girl would. She _must_ be Ellie's daughter.

"Who's your dad?"

"I dunno. Everyone thought it was this Sean dude, but it's not. And I'm glad about that. He married this total blond nutcase. My mom just says she has 'control issues', but whatever. I still say we should call the cops when they visit."

So she's got no dad? It wasn't like Ellie to just have sex with anybody. Especially if they were going to leave her. I just can't see Ellie ever doing that. It'd be different if it was a guy she knew, a guy she trusted. Like Sean or Jesse or…

Or me. But she doesn't trust me anymore. She hasn't forever. And I never had sex with Ellie. She'd never let me in a million years. Besides, I'd never do that to her, unless-

Unless I was a high, idiotic, coke addict who knew he'd done something wrong, but couldn't process it because of the drugs. And who knew he really loved this girl, but she was mad at him. Who had just embarrassed himself in front of Taking Back Sunday with a coke nosebleed, not to mention a bunch of other people too. And who knew he'd probably be leaving in the morning, so he wanted to try to make the best of the night.

What the hell?! Just what the _fucking hell_?!

"This might sound weird, but how old are you?" I ask, and swallow hard. She sort of eyes me for a second, and then shrugs.

"Thirteen."

Now I know who her smile reminds me of. Me. She's my baby, and she's got my smile.

Holy shit. I'm a dad. And Ellie never told me? She just let me bound off into fame, to stay up all night and get high? While I had a baby back home? While I was a dad and didn't even know it? Well, she was probably mad at me. Mad at me for ruining her life. Mad at herself for letting me get anywhere near her when I was high, especially locked in my room. Mad that her whole future was wiped out, clean off the board.

Quickly, I sign the picture Holly gave me and hand it back to her. I remember that picture now. It was during senior year. Ellie and I were in the garage practicing, and she found my old camera with some leftover film. We goofed off, took a bunch of crazy pictures. And I developed them for her and gave them to her as a present. And she still has them.

"Thanks," Holly says, "I'll tell my mom that you know her. Maybe she'll remember you. Or maybe she never told me cause she figured I'd go crazy. She was right, anyway."

Wrong. She never told you about me cause I'm your dad. Miss. Nash can be very good at keeping secrets when she wants to.

The line moves along, and Holly is gone from my sight. I wish I could've taken a picture or something, study it, see which of her is like me and which is Ellie. But then I would've really freaked her out. I've already got enough reasons to get put in jail, thank you very much. Don't need anymore.

By the time everyone's left and we're back on the bus, it's almost midnight. I dig out my cell phone and go sit outside in the wet parking lot. Maybe her number's still the same. Maybe she's kept her phone all this time. Maybe she'll pick up for me, just this once. Maybe, maybe…

I listen as the phone rings at least five times. It clicks, and I hear someone breathe. I bet I'm in her contacts still, too. So no surprise. We both know who we're talking to, what we're dealing with.

"I'm sorry about waking you up. But I had to talk to you."

"What do you want?" she asks groggily. I wish I was sleeping instead of sitting out in the cold. Instead of itching to go get a mirror and some white powder. But that's life.

"Just checking up on you. See how things are going. Anything you want to tell me?"

"It's been thirteen years, Craig. What's there to talk about?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe that I'm a dad. Maybe that we have a daughter named Holly Nash, and she's got my smile."

There's silence on the other end, except for her breathing. She sighs, and I can just picture her face. Frowning, maybe a little surprised, too. Mad as hell at the rockstar who woke her up, and who's now talking about her daughter, "How'd you know?"

"She came to the concert tonight. I recognized her, and the name. Why'd you never tell me?"

"Didn't think you could be bothered. A rock star's a full time job, you know. Kinda like being a single mom."

"I would've come back for you," I say, watching the flickering street light at the other end of the parking lot, "Didn't you know that?"

"No, I really didn't, Craig! How was I suppose to? And… I didn't want to take it away from you. You always wanted to make it big. I didn't want to be the one to hold you back."

"You're more important than fame, El. You always have been. I only left in the first place because you told me to. If you didn't, I probably would've gone to U of T with the rest of you. All that ever really mattered to me… was you. I could just never let myself… accept it, I guess. It seemed like… I'd always worked so hard for Manny that I couldn't just let her go. But you were always more important to me."

"Craig, are you high?!" she asks, and I can hear a door shut in the background. Someone is kicking off their shoes, and stomping around the room like it's daylight or something.

"Mom? Who're you talking to?" it's Holly, her voice faint in the background. She must've just got back from my concert.

"Just Marco."

"At midnight?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't you go to bed?"

"Whatever. You guys are such freaks. Tell him I said hi."

The footsteps fade away.

"Holly says hi, 'Marco'," she says, a tint of happiness coming to her voice. But she's still angry, sad, whatever.

"I'm sure Marco says hi back. But Marco's probably sleeping," I start to laugh, but then grow silent, picturing Holly's face.

"She's got your hair."

"She's got your voice."

"My voice? Ellie, she's a girl."

"I mean she can sing, bozo."

"Right."

We're both silent. I lean against the bus, staring at the highway in front of me. There are cars driving, even at this hour. Weird, huh? There's this tapping noise on Ellie's end. She must be hitting something. Probably a picture of me.

"Are you high?" she asks again, and I wonder why she'd like to know.

"Not right now."

"So you're still an addict?"

I sigh, "It's not that simple. You know that."

"Craig!" she shouts, sounding disappointed.

"Hey! Last time I checked, you were still an addict, too!"

"That's different."

"No, it's not. It's the same thing."

"Okay," she says. I guess she just doesn't feel like arguing. Or maybe she thinks I'm right. Or maybe I am right. You never know. There's a first time for everything.

"Do you still cut?"

"Of course not! I'm a mom now! What a great example for my daughter, huh? Whenever it gets to be too much you can just make yourself bleed? Right. Why would you even ask that?"

"You asked me if I was still on coke," I say, and pick at a loose string in my shirt, "Do you still think about it?"

"Sometimes," she sighs, and I can hear her moving around, "But it's not like I want to do it anymore or anything. It's just always going to be a part of my life."

"I know what you mean."

"Craig. Coke can kill you."

"So can cutting."

"I don't cut anymore. You're still on coke."

"Okay, El. I get it."

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she sighs, changing the subject quickly.

"What? You don't want me to be part of my daughter's life?"

"Craig, you hurt me. You hurt me so much I still can't think about it. And now you just want to be a part of our lives when you're an addict rockstar?"

"To put it simply, yeah."

"You can't. I haven't told her anything. I couldn't."

"I noticed. Apparently, she doesn't like Emma much."

She laughs into the phone, and I smile. It's almost like old times. Before I left for Vancouver, and before she went on though life without me. When we took pictures in my garage and played pinball together. Before we, before _I_, ruined everything. Except the big difference is that we're both alone and talking on the phone at midnight. Okay, scratch that, we've stayed up all night on the phone before. So I guess the big difference is that we're both alone. As in, away from each other.

"I just can't do this right now…"

"Okay, if not right now, when? Are you just going to keep making excuses because you _still_ won't trust people?"

"Why should I trust you? You got me _pregnant_, Craig! I'm not like Manny, I'm not going to pretend that everything's okay just so you won't feel bad. You deserve to feel bad! I threw my entire life away for Holly and for you! I was going to be a journalist, write stories, be somebody! And now… I can't even say that I'm a college graduate. I've got nothing."

"Except Holly. And me. El, you really call that nothing?"

"No… but-"

"So why didn't you just get an abortion, or give her away?"

"You honestly think I would do that?! No matter how much I wish that I could still be everything I wanted to be, there isn't a second that I regret keeping her. I don't want Holly to have a mom like I did."

"She's kinda got the dad, though, doesn't she?"

"Yeah… guess so," Ellie says, and laughs slightly.

"I'm not the same guy anymore, El," I say, and then realize what I said, "Okay, not completely different, but nobody's perfect. I promise, I'll try to make it work this time. I'm not going to leave again."

"Aw, but isn't the fourth time the charm?" she laughs, but the laughter quickly fades, "Craig… how am I suppose to know that this isn't just another one of your famous lies? The kind you always tell when you're desperate for attention or drugs or whatever?"

"I don't know. I guess… you'll just have to try to trust me. And we'll wait and see what happens."

There's silence on the other end of the phone, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. You never know with Ellie.

"You've got to listen to me, Craig, okay? You've made promises to me before. You promised that you'd go to rehab, promised that you wouldn't leave me… I just don't want you to make any promises that you won't keep."

"I know I've screwed up. So many times… but I'm _not_ lying this time. We're going to make this work. I won't leave you. I really promise."

I stare at the black pavement beneath my feet, and the flickering streetlights and random cars passing by. I know that promises are something that I've been known for breaking. But I'm not stupid (despite popular belief). I know when it's my last chance, and when it has to count.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow?"

"No."

She sighs into the phone.

"Come over in the morning. We've got a lot to talk about."

Maybe things will be okay. Maybe for once in my life, I'll get something right. I'll get a second chance, and this time I won't screw it up. I can't. If I do, then life's not worth it. Not if you're always going to screw up. So it's time to start trying, and to start making promises that I'll keep.

_REVIEW:)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for the awesome reviews, you guys! I just hope this chapter is up to standards with the last… Also, just to let you know, I made an image for this story. The link is on my profile. __I decided that this story will most likely have alternating POVs. So enjoy Ellie this time around!_

**Chapter 2**

_**Ellie**_

Why am I doing this?

Because I love him? Oh, Ellie, don't go telling yourself that. It'll just get worse. I can't still love Craig. That'd be stupid. Why? Because… it just would, okay?

I gave up my dreams for him, for my daughter. I guess most mothers do, but most mothers don't get pregnant from a coke addict rock star (okay, maybe some. I'm not doing a survey or anything). I know I'm the one who shut him out, but what was I suppose to say exactly? "I'm pregnant. Come back for me. Give up your entire life so we can both be unhappy!" Well, I'm not that unhappy, but why should Craig have to give up his dreams like I did? He's not the one tied down. That's the mom's job. And I told myself since the day I bought the pregnancy test that if this really happened, I wasn't going to be like my mother. I was going to be a good mom, and I wasn't going to make my kid go through what I did.

Am I a good mom? I've been keeping Craig a secret from Holly ever since she was old enough to ask questions. She used to ask me every day, "Who's my daddy?" and I'd just tell her I didn't know. Now that she's older, she'll ask just to bug me. Usually I tell her he's Spiderman or working for the FBI. Imagine Craig working for the FBI. That always makes me laugh. I just never knew how to tell her. I felt like I couldn't tell her. "Yeah. Your dad's a famous rockstar. And he's addicted to cocaine. I got pregnant with you when he was high, and the only time he ever said he loved me was just to get more drugs!" I'm sure that'd go over wonderfully.

I didn't even tell my friends that Holly's father is Craig. Marco guessed it the minute he found the pregnancy test in the trash (why he was going through the trash, I'll never know). I never told Ashley, but I think she knows by Holly's smile. Jimmy _still_ plays the guessing game with me, and Paige has officially stopped trying. As for everyone else (yes, I know, such a wide circle of friends), I assume that they don't have a clue. My own parents don't even know. And I hope that most people never find out.

And just to make me feel like even more of an idiot, Craig's coming over today. Since I'm so brilliant, I'm giving him a second chance. I wonder how Holly will react when she sees Craig Manning at her house. Maybe she won't even wake up. She _did_ get home late last night…

I sigh to myself, and roll over in my bed. My cell phone says it's only seven, and I already have a message from Marco asking what Holly will want for a birthday present. That's right, her birthday is only a few weeks away… Maybe I can stuff Craig in a box and give him to her. That's just what I need, Craig in his current state influencing my daughter. _Our_ daughter. That's going to take some time to get used to…

"Mom!" Holly says from the bedroom door, "Did you eat my Pop-Tarts?"

"What?" I ask, sitting up, squinting in the light, "Shouldn't you be sleeping, Hol?"

"I'm going back to bed. I just need a Pop-Tart. Did you eat them?"

I'll never fully understand my daughter's mind. Eating sugar and then sleeping doesn't make much sense to me. Of course, I didn't exactly have a normal childhood, so how should I know?

"I think Marco did. When we were playing cards yesterday."

Marco is a frequent visitor in our humble abode. He's single, although looking for dates. His life alone gets pretty lonely, so I guess he enjoys spending time with us. He's like Holly's uncle. Whenever I need a break, he's always more than willing to take her off my hands. I'm not sure what I'd do without him and his ideas. People have no idea how tragically a bored thirteen year old can effect your schedule.

"Can I call him and complain?"

"Sure. Go for it."

She smiles at me and leaves the room, her red ponytail bouncing behind her.

I've never regretted keeping Holly. And I don't blame any of my life on her, or even on Craig. I mostly blame myself, for being so stupid. All I wanted was for him to love me back. I guess I got my wish, with a kid to boot. I shouldn't have to get Craig to love me by letting him have drugs, or sleeping with him… Of course, he says he always loved me. I'm just having a hard time buying it. If he ever loved me, then why'd he do all the things he did? Why'd he choose Manny over me, choose drugs over me? And if I ever really loved him, why didn't I fight for it?

I listen to Holly yell at Marco, and hear the phone click, her footsteps fading away. Poor Marco. When someone finishes any of Holly's food she has claimed and forgets to buy more, no one is free from her wrath, including me.

I decide to make some progress and go into the kitchen to make some coffee. I bring my cell phone with me, and dial Marco's number. I need to talk to someone other than myself, or I'm afraid that my brain might explode.

"Morning, El."

"Why do you leave messages on my phone at five thirty in the morning?"

"I woke up early today. Sue me. So, what should I get her?"

"Pop-Tarts," I say, and laugh, causing me to spill some coffee on the counter.

"Yeah, she just called me about that…"

"When you eat things and there isn't any left, Marco, put it on the _grocery list_."

"I'm sorry. I just can't grasp the concept."

"It's not a very hard concept to grasp," I pause so I can turn the coffee maker on and sit down at the table.

"So what should I get her? Please, El, I'm dying."

"I don't know. What do fourteen year olds like?"

"Come on, Mom! You should know your daughter better than this!"

What does he want from me? I'm not psychic.

"Well… she has a new thing for the Beatles."

"The Beatles? Definitely not her style."

"I know. But the minute she heard 'I Am The Walrus', she was hooked. She's fascinated that they wrote all their songs when they were high and still managed to be mega famous."

"But… they're even before _our_ time."

"Oh, come on! You never listened to them?"

"Okay, maybe once or twice… but only when 'Helter Skelter' was stuck in my head."

"I always liked 'With A Little Help From my Friends' myself," I say, and being singing, "I get by with a little help from my friends."

"I get high with a little help from my friends," Marco sings, and starts laughing, "I've got a good one for you. _I'm sitting back here in Vancouver, just wishing for my Toronto lights…"_

"Marco, shut up! That isn't even the Beatles!"

"You're just mad because it's about you. We're all so jealous, Miss. Nash."

"_Shut_. _Up_." I growl.

"Speaking of Craig, how was Holly's concert last night?"

"I don't know. She went back to sleep. But Craig did call me last night…"

"_What_?! And you've had me singing Beatles songs all this time?! How did it happen? Why?! Did you confess your undying love?! Was he freaked out cause he's a dad?! Does he even know?! Do-"

"Marco! Just stop! Holly got his autograph after the show, and he recognized her, I guess. She told him who I was, so he called me. He was mad that I never told him, but he's over it, I think. And there's no 'undying love' involved."

"Sure," Marco scoffs, and I can almost hear him rolling his eyes, "So what's gonna happen now?"

"He's coming over today."

"_Eleanor Nash_! You wait till _now_ to tell me this?!"

"Well, you were the one asking me about Holly's birthday, and-"

"Are you seriously going to talk to him?! I bet before he leaves you guys end up making out."

"No way."

"Uh, yes way. Ten bucks."

"Plus coffee at The Dot?"

"Sure."

"You're that sure of yourself?" I ask him.

"Unless I don't know my best friend anymore, which I believe I do, I am very sure of myself, Eleanor."

I scowl at the newspaper in front of me, and hold the phone tighter. Marco honestly thinks I'm that weak. I have no undying love for Craig. What's that suppose to mean, anyway? Craig doesn't mean anything to me anymore… Of course not.

Maybe I'm a little afraid of what I'll do once I see him in person. But I'm not telling Marco that.

"So what am I suppose to do?"

"Confess your undying love. Make out so I get ten bucks."

"I'm serious. And there's no undying love!"

"You're in denial!" he sings. I groan, and he gets serious, "I don't know, Ellie. Talk to him? Tell him why you kept Holly a secret for almost fourteen years? I can't really help. It's your call."

"I don't know if I can do this…"

"You'll be fine, El. Trust me."

Doesn't he know I suck at trusting people? I sigh into the phone, "I have to go Marco."

"Go get ready for your date, El!"

"It's _not_ a date!"

"Sure it isn't. And I'm not gay. Kinda like how the sky isn't blue and how fish can breathe air."

"You're such an idiot."

"Thank you, Ellie. I'm touched. Really, I am. Bye."

I shut the phone off and growl again. No matter what Marco says, he's wrong. He has to be wrong. If he's right, then that just screws up my whole theory that I don't love Craig anymore. I can't love him anymore.

I don't think anyone understands how complicated it is. With attitudes like Marco's, I'm sure of it. The thing is, Craig got me pregnant. Now, I take half the responsibility in that, but he got me pregnant and then I was alone. I was alone and stubborn and I wouldn't call him. I didn't want to call him. Really, think about it. He had broken my heart multiple times, had chosen drugs over me, and wasn't a person I felt like trusting at the moment. I thought about calling him after Holly was born, but then I found out that he was still an addict. He never went to rehab. And that was pretty much enough to turn me off from ever speaking to him again. I knew what addictions were like and I knew it was always better if you got help. So pretty much everything about Craig was erased from my mind. Except for, you know, when they put up a giant billboard of him by the Civic Center. Then there was really no avoiding it.

Once my coffee is ready and I have a cup, I take a shower and try to make myself look presentable. I don't know why I feel like I need to look so great for Craig. He's just Craig. Except inside, I know he's not "just Craig". But I'm not going to admit it anytime soon. Because then I'd have to face reality. And that's never any fun, especially involving boys. You should've seen me after Sean left. But that's not the point. There is no point, because it's just Craig.

In the words of Marco, "You're in denial."

Of course, if he was here, I'd tell him to shut up and some more unpleasant things if Holly wasn't within earshot. But Marco's not here and I'm _not_ in denial, so we have no problems. It's just Craig.

As I'm finishing up brushing my teeth, the doorbell rings.

Crap. Crap, crap, crap! I'm honestly not fooling anyone, am I? Because it's not just Craig, and I'm so in denial, and he's standing on my front porch!

Of course, it could be the UPS guy. Or maybe a kidnapper. Maybe my mom's visiting. Of course, this is a bunch of shit, but anything to distract myself from the truth. Anything.

As I open the door, the Truth punches me in the gut. Cause there's Craig standing on my doorstep, waiting to be let inside.

"Hey, El."

Damn it. Marco just might win the bet.

_There you go! I really hope you liked it! Sorry for Marco and Ellie's very long/most likely annoying phone conversation involving the Beatles. I listen to the Across the Universe soundtrack when I write… I couldn't help it! __J__ (Across the Universe is a movie will all Beatles songs. I want a real Beatles CD, but I'm broke right now)_

_Review please! I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I hope it'll be in under two weeks! - Molly_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey everyone. I'm so sorry that everything took so long! My stories were deleted, and my internet computer had a virus. But after some major road bumps, Chapter 3 is here! Yay! Be happy and review!_

**Chapter 3**

_**Craig**_

The house is small, white with dark green shutters. Bushes line the front of the house, and Holly's bicycle is tossed carelessly by the front porch. There aren't any flowers anywhere, but Ellie was never much of a gardener. She always told me she was better at killing things than helping them grow. She has two front doors on top of each other, a screen door and a storm door, for those good old Canadian winters. The door is the same dark green as the shutters. The sight I'm seeing perplexes me. Everything looks so… normal.

At one point in time, Ellie and I said that we were going to become famous together. I was going to buy a Porsche (911, full leather interior, fire engine red), we were going to be as great as the Beatles. Sell out shows, win awards, the whole nine yards. We wouldn't have a house, we'd have a tour bus, hotel rooms. The normal old life would be for all the boring people. We were going to go for it, chase our dreams.

But she couldn't keep time very well. She wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to be a rockstar. Leo only wanted me, not the package. So it was over. The last promise I made (from our last goodbye, not all the complicated mess that came after) was that I'd take her for a ride when I got that Porsche. And here it is, sitting in her driveway (I had sent it here to Toronto from Vancouver, with the guy who bought Joey's car lot. I figured I didn't need it much, and Toronto seemed like the right place for it to be. I told him to keep it safe, please, and paid him for it. Surprisingly, he did. Looks like I'm going to be following the tour bus now instead of riding in it). She still has never even seen it.

Remembering all this makes me think of all the mistakes I've made. I've been such a fuck up, haven't I? Cheating on girls, abandoning them for someone who will take their top off more than willingly. Taking off without a second glance, coming back for a visit and taking advantage of her just for drugs and a good time. Getting her pregnant just so she wouldn't make me get help, just so I could make it out safe and sound. No one else ever mattered.

Slowly, I open the screen door and ring the doorbell. I can hear it echoing through the house. About a minute later, I hear footsteps rushing around, and the door opens.

She's standing right there. A fiery red head with brown eyes and bewilderment on her face. Pregnancy hasn't hurt her at all, she still looks as great as when we were eighteen. Her hair is shorter than a remember, coming just past her shoulders. She's actually wearing a t-shirt, the scars faded, almost invisible to someone who doesn't know her. I don't know why I'm so surprised, I guess it's because the Ellie I know would kill herself before exposing her arms to anyone. I feel like I'm going back in time, back to when things were so much simpler.

"Hey, El," I say, and smile easily. She looks so unsure of herself, but smiles anyway.

"Hi, Craig," neither of us move. I want to do something. Reach out, hug her. But I don't know if that'd be going too far.

"So, uh… maybe we should just… talk outside," she says, and steps out onto the porch, shutting the door tightly behind her, "Holly's sleeping."

"Oh," I mutter. I can't stop staring at her. Should I? Maybe that's a little weird… "Does she… know?"

"No," Ellie states, and looks at her feet, "So… how have you been?"

"I'm okay. Touring is fun. Exhausting, but fun. You?"

"Fine. Considering I have a thirteen year old who's going through puberty. Actually, if you add that in, it's been pretty great."

I nod, and look down at the porch.

"Nice car," she comments, staring at the Porsche, "Never thought you'd actually do it."

"You never thought I'd do a lot of things," I smile.

"Yeah…" she sighs, and gives me a weak smile back. I realize too late that this could have a double meaning, but she doesn't seem to notice. Or she doesn't care. Maybe she's just ignoring it for my sake, "You know, you never gave me a ride."

"I guess I could take you for one," I laugh, "Sometime. If you're nice to me."

She chuckles a little, and stuffs her hands in her pockets. I realize now that she's changed. Or maybe reverted back to old habits. It's like she's closed, all over again, unwilling to let me in. Of course, we all know that Miss. Nash has trust issues, but I didn't think it would be like this. Like she won't show me _anything._

"I can't believe it's been thirteen years."

"Fourteen," she says, her head snapping up to look at me, "Fourteen years and six months since I last saw you, give or take a few days."

"Someone's been keeping track pretty well," I joke, and she stares at me. With that _look_. That look she gets that says, _Are you serious? Please tell me you're joking before I kick your ass._

"How could I not?" she asks quietly, her expression smoothing out to almost calm, "I'm reminded every day of what happened to us, Craig. She's my entire life. While you…"

While I was an idiot. I had a whole other life back here in Toronto, and I didn't even bother to find out about any of it. Of course, I didn't have much of a way of knowing. But it still amazes me. How I had all of this, right here, where I grew up, and I never knew.

Ever since my mom died, I wanted out of Toronto, for good. I never wanted to see it again. The day I left, I promised myself that I wouldn't come back if I could help it. And now, it's the one place I wish I could stay. How weird.

"I'm sorry," I sigh, and stare at her again. She's so different. A different person.

"For what?"

"For… everything."

She stares at me, and I can tell that she thinks I don't mean it. But I do. I just… have trouble expressing my feelings, after all this time. Especially with Ellie.

"You don't have to force yourself to be sorry, Craig. It's fine if you're not."

Great, more glaring and bitter words. We sure are getting off to a great start.

"I _am_ sorry, El!" Another look, "Come on! You know me-"

"No, I don't," she says, "I thought I did. I thought you were a great musician who I used to play the drums with in the garage, and talk to about everything. And then you turned into the Rock Star, Mr. Manning, a druggie and a coke-head. You were high all the time, and it was the only time you ever said you loved me. That was what our 'relationship' was. Just a bunch of coke and lies. So I _don't_ know you anymore, Craig. And you don't know me."

I don't know how I'm suppose to answer that. In fact, I have no idea. She just basically told me that I'm an idiot, all over again. As if I'm not beating myself up enough for the two of us. But I guess I deserve it.

"No… I don't know you," I say, "I always thought…. You were so strong, you know? That you'd never quit. And then I went and screwed you up, and you just… dropped out?"

"You don't understand," she says, shaking her head, "You have no idea what you put me through."

"Besides pregnancy and a broken heart?"

"You _didn't_ break my heart."

"Right, because no one ever gets to Miss. Nash."

She ignores my comment and speaks again, "Have you ever raised a baby on a college newspaper salary?"

I figure the question is self explanatory, so I let her continue.

"It costs money. _A lot _of money. Babies aren't cheap. And neither is school. Of course, you wouldn't know that, Mr. Full-Scholarship/High School Dropout.

"My dad was… dead, and my mom was already working two jobs to pay for herself and to help me with college. When I got pregnant, everything crashed and burned. I couldn't work, and I'd miss half my classes because I was throwing up or running home to take care of her. I'd be late because she had the flu or trying to find babysitters at the last minute. I needed money to take care of Holly, and I needed money to pay for school. So I made a choice."

"And you chose Holly."

"Of course," she laughs lightly, "School… it'll always be there. But Holly won't. My mother always said she realized that with me too late. I didn't want to make the same mistake she did. So I quit, got a full time job, and took care of my baby. Now that she's old enough to stay home alone, I'm thinking about taking night classes."

"How can you be so… _selfless_?" I ask, utterly confused.

"It's a mother thing. Well, with most mothers anyway. It's a father thing too, I guess. If the father's around."

"If the father knows the child exists," I counter.

She scowls, and rolls her eyes at me. A glimpse of the old Ellie. It's kind of nice.

"Sorry," she says, with a mix of sarcasm and regret at the same time, "I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot. You don't even have that much to be sorry for…"

"Yes I do," she shakes her head, "You don't know how much-"

But the ringing of my cell phone cuts her off. I sigh and dig into my pocket. I think about just shutting the stupid thing off, but it's Leo. It might be… important. I'm not sure what could be as important as this, but still.

"What?"

"Such a polite way to answer the phone," Leo laughs, "All you catty rock stars."

"Leo, do you need something? I'm kind of busy," hearing Leo's name, Ellie rolls her eyes. I guess she still hasn't forgotten all the things he said about her.

"Whatever you're doing, you'd better drop it. Did you forget that you have an interview today?"

"Tell them I'm sick."

"Yeah, great plan," he says sarcastically, "Except this is the biggest magazine in Toronto. So get your ass over here."

"Okay," I sigh, "I'm coming."

"Hurry up, rock star."

I shut the phone quickly and shove it back into my pocket, "Listen, El, I really have to get going."

"Right," she says, her walls coming right back up. You wouldn't think she was close to tears a few minutes ago, "It's fine. Really."

"I still want to see you again, okay? Catch up sometime."

"How long are you here for?" she asks.

"Three weeks."

"Okay. Well, I guess I'll be seeing you."

"Yeah."

We stand there, awkwardly, in silence. Seeing Ellie again makes it feel like no time has passed. We could still be seniors in high school, hanging out in my garage. Even though this isn't the case, it makes me feel hopeful again. Which is why I have no problem leaning over and kissing her.

At first she doesn't do anything, shocked probably, but then she kisses me back. And suddenly, it's like I'm nineteen and a cokehead rockstar all over again. Well, I still am. I'm just not nineteen anymore. But you get the picture.

She pulls away and I look at her, smiling. She's trying to keep herself from smiling, I can tell. But she's not very good at it.

"Bye Craig," she says, almost laughing. I wish I could kiss her again, but I'm pretty sure Leo would kill me.

"Bye Ellie," I say, and climb into my car. I watch her in the rearview mirror until I can't see her anymore and she's blocked out by trees or other houses. She stays on the porch, watching me too. And I actually start laughing, for both of us

I'm finally getting somewhere.

_Well, there's Chapter 3! yay..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey everyone! I know it's been a loooonnnnggg time, but Degrassi failed to inspire me, especially since the new season doesn't have any Ellie. But I've been watched the marathon on The-N, so I got in the mood. :) _

_Anyway, this is chapter 4. Some of you have been asking for more backstory on how Ellie got pregnant. It's coming, trust me! There's a little bit in this chapter, though. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 4**

_**Ellie**_

I kissed him! I kissed him, I kissed him, _I kissed him_!

How can I be so stupid? I should know his game by now, shouldn't I? He sweet talks his way into your heart and then destroys you from the inside out. Occasionally he leaves you pregnant, the use of drugs varying. Didn't I remember what happened before? Gee, why am I not a writer for the Toronto Star again? How come I don't remember partying and having fun through my college years? Oh, right, because those "college years" ended pretty quickly. I got pregnant! I wonder who from… Craig, wasn't it? Yeah, _Craig_! And now I'm kissing him? What a smart idea! Did I hit my head or something?! Do I need to be sent to a mental instauration?!

He's still on crack! I was hoping he was dead from using so much. Okay, maybe not _dead_, but at least bearing emotional and/or physical scars from the incident, and had learned a lesson and would maybe come back and be my Prince Charming. Holly could have a dad and I could have a husband.

I could add a glass slipper, give Marco a magic wand, and everything would be perfect! I really need a grip on reality. Well, I have one. Reality has slapped me in the face one too many times. I guess I'm just losing it again if I think that for one second Craig will stick around for me…

It's not even so bad that I _hope_ he _might_ stick around. The worst thing is that I can't even give myself a little elbow room to actually believe it. How can I? My dad never stuck around much, even if it was his job, so why won't Craig be the same? As for the whole "I promise" deal, I've had promises broken for way too long to ever believe in them. Mom promised to stop drinking, Sean promised he'd never hurt me, dad promised he'd come back. Craig promised he loved me. I even promised to stop cutting, and it took me five years and a baby to do it.

Being handed broken promises tends to break your trust. It explains why I have so little left. I can't trust people because _other people_ are just so unpredictable. How can I take such a big risk? It's stupid and unnecessary. This is what I've taught myself to believe. And take it from someone who knows: bad habits are very, very hard to break.

Call me what you want, but I am who I am. I can't change. I always tried to be a different person for him, and look where it got me. Knocked up and fucked up (of the mental variety, that is). I need to start being myself. If he doesn't like me then, tough luck.

Of course… that's way easier to say and a lot harder to do. I've gotten so used to molding myself around him… to be what _he_ needs. I don't know how he'd take it if I told him _I_ need _him_ now. Even when we first started hanging out, it was always Craig and his bipolar. We never really talked about why _I_ was in Group. I'm sure he must've heard me during the sessions, but it was always about him. Everything seems to be. Even getting pregnant with Holly was just another way to please him, to feel like he actually cared. So much for that.

Except now he says he does care. That he's cared all along. How am I suppose to believe that? After almost fourteen years? Does he expect me to jump into his arms? He comes back after all this time saying he loves me and he's sorry and wants an answer. What am I suppose to say? What _is_ there to say? Are there even enough words in the dictionary? Just what in the world am I suppose to do about this?

Now I remember why part of me was happy that he left. When he's here, he puts me under so much pressure it feels like my lungs are about to burst.

So what do you do when it feels like you're about to have a panic attack every second? From a page of the book of Paige: you do something mindless. Something that takes no thought, especially about your stress-inducers. For her, it was digital solitaire. For me, it's sitting at a desk at a publishing agency and saying "Sunflower Publishing Inc., please hold!"

It only seems fitting that I work so close to where I want to be. There weren't any openings at the local newspaper office, so I settled for the next best thing. Publishing. Maybe I'm only a secretary, but hey. I'll take what I can get. Besides, it seems to me that I'm pretty good at settling. I've had my fair share.

All day, clients come and go, waiting to make it big. I file their papers and set up appointments. I stare out the window and wonder what my life could've been like if I'd left Toronto. If Craig Manning had never entered my life, where would I be today? New York, Paris, Tokyo. Anywhere and everywhere. Hopefully not still thinking of him. I never would've found myself laying in bed with him years ago, never would've had to walk away, never would've had to face motherhood alone.

I wouldn't be me. I'd be someone else. I wish I knew who she was. But if I knew her, I wouldn't know Holly. Is that a trade I was ever willing to make? I guess not, or I wouldn't of chosen what I did. I would've ran to the clinic (almost did) or signed up for adoption (couldn't).

I chose my baby. Sometimes, I'm still not sure if I made the right choice. The only way to survive is to wing it.

_Three weeks ago, I kissed a cokehead rockstar backstage._

_Three weeks ago, I slept with him in my bedroom._

_Three weeks ago, I ran away from him in the airport._

_Today, this morning, I am puking into the toilet. It has been happening for a few days now. Everything I eat, I toss back up. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out._

_I'm pregnant._

_Wow, Ellie. Just wow. Never thought you'd be idiotic enough to screw up this bad. Freshmen in college can't take care of babies. Freshmen in college can't even take care of themselves! What were you thinking? Why would you even sleep with him?_

_I wanted him to love me, if only for a second__._

_At 1:30 am, the drugstore is empty. I hand the box to the cashier. He smirks._

_"One too many parties with your boyfriend?"_

_He's trying to be funny. It doesn't bother me. I'm grateful for anyone to say anything, to keep me from thinking about the living thing growing inside my womb._

_"Something like that."_

_At home, nothing happens that I didn't expect._

_It's positive. The test proves it._

_There's no way out now. I'm scared shitless._

_Days later while taking out the trash, Marco finds it._

_"El? Is this yours? It's not mine, and I don't think it's Dylan's, but you never know…"_

_He's making a joke out of it. Does everyone make jokes out of these things?_

_"Yeah. I… um… I'm pregnant."_

_He's the only person I trust to hold me while I cry._

_Making an appointment wasn't hard. The walk there isn't hard, either. I even make it through the doors. But then, I just can't do it. I can't._

_I want to think it's because I love this baby so much, I can't part with it. But I'm afraid it's really because I just want my very own piece of Craig to hold onto. Am I that selfish?_

_I want to call Marco, but he has class. I call a taxi instead. The driver doesn't ask any questions. I have a feeling it's not the first time he's driven girls home from that place, scrunched up crying in the backseat. At least I'm crying for different reasons. I can be proud of that._

_Should I be proud? Am I really going to keep this baby? What should I do?_

_I do what every girl does. I call my mom._

_- // -_

_Did you like it? It kind of ended abruptly, but I wasn't sure what else to do. Make sure to review! See you next time!_

* * *

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5 is here! It might be a little while until the next update, cause I'm totally stuck.... sorry. I hope you like this one, though._

- // -

**Chapter 5**

_**Craig**_

If there was one thing I'd never miss, it would have to be interviews. It's not that I don't appreciate fans and stuff, but sometimes the things they ask are just weird. Do people actually care what I ate for breakfast yesterday? Or what socks I'm wearing? It's a little ridiculous.

Leo says interviews are key to publicity and fame and all that. I couldn't really care less, especially now that I've got other things on my mind. I gave up reconnecting with the girl I think I love for this. For sitting in some chair talking about my personal life with someone I don't even know.

A blonde, skinny chick sits down in front of me, my host for this evening. She's got a tape recorder, and her I.D card is hanging around her neck. I wonder, for a second, could this have been Ellie? If we'd never slept together, could this be her?

"Thanks so much for coming to meet with us, Craig," the reporter girl smiles. I hate how they refer to themselves as 'us.' As if the reporter and the company are one entity, bent on taking over the media world, "You must be very busy."

"Don't sweat it. Anything for the people."

She laughs, "Can you tell us anything about your tour?"

"It's been great. I played my first show here in T.O last night. We'll be sticking around for a few weeks, since this is where I grew up."

"It must be nice to get off the bus."

"We're not off it yet, but yeah, that place is a mess. I'm pretty sure we're in the middle of renting a hotel room as we speak."

"Since you grew up here, are you planning on visiting any of your old friends?"

She has to ask the hard questions, doesn't she? As if these people deserve to know things so personal… I guess they don't know how touchy it is for me, but whatever, "I don't know. Most of the old gang has moved onto bigger and better things, you know? If I run into anybody, maybe we'll hang out."

She nods, smiles. I bet she's still got bills on the counter from those pearly whites, "Do you keep in touch with any of your friends?"

"No. Being away, it was just too difficult."

"There are rumors that you and your friends had a falling out some time back. Is it true?"

Not exactly. But I can't tell the truth. No one knows about cocaine or rehab or Ellie, and I'd like to keep it that way, "No. We didn't fight. Everyone just grew apart. I'm sure you can understand."

"Okay. What can we expect to see of you in the future? Any plans?"

"I'm hoping for just more success, you know? Not a new album right now, but I've got a few songs in the works. I think the mood will be different than before."

The rest of the interview is a breeze; standard questions I've heard a million times. I've got too much going on in my head to really pay attention.

I need to get Ellie back. I really, really do. I want to be a part of Holly's life. I want to know Ellie again. I think I even want to love her again (if I ever did in the first place). We kissed, didn't we? That's got to mean something. I haven't won yet, but I will. I have to. I want to fix my mistakes.

How do I get a chance to fix them? How do I make her trust me?

The interview is over. I'm shaking blonde chick's hand, standing up, leaving the room to find Leo in my face.

"So how'd it go, Rockstar? Knock 'em dead?"

"Yeah, sure," I don't exactly feel like talking to the one guy who'll definitely try to keep Ellie and I apart.

"We're all checked into the hotel. Room should be ready."

"Great. I'll meet you there."

"Where were you exactly, before the interview?" of course he wants to know. He just loves keeping my life the way he likes it.

"Just visiting an old friend."

"Thought you didn't want to see any old friends. We agreed you were going to concentrate on music."

"Something came up," I say, not looking at him.

"What? One of your whiney ex-girlfriends?"

"No," he really needs to shut up, "Let's just get to the hotel, okay?"

"Whatever. Don't go tripping on me, Manning. If this tour's a hit, we go bigger than big."

As if he needs to remind me. The only problem is, I just found a whole other part of my life I never had. I need to see who this other me is, could've been, before it's too late.

- // -

The fanciest hotel in Toronto is now at my fingertips. A place I could've only dreamed about when I was a kid. Weird. I used to think about how amazing it must look in this place. It isn't so great. I mean, sure, it's cool. But not as amazing as I ever thought it would be.

A lot of things are like that. You see things differently than when you're a kid. You believe in Santa Clause and want to marry a girl just like your mom one day and say when you get a house, you'll have your very own bunk bed and racetrack and a room with a giant trampoline for a floor. But then everything changes. Santa Clause isn't real; he never was. It crushes you somehow, and everything else follows. Your mom dies, so you don't really want to marry a girl like her, because what if she dies on you too? The house you get, if you even have a house, isn't cool or special. It's normal, average. There are no bunk beds. Shit happens. If you're like me, a lot of shit happens. Shit you can't control, shit you wish you could take back. That's another thing you learn: no take backs. Well, scratch that. Kids know all about rules like that. No take backs, be really nice to the people you love, and losing a double-dog-dare makes you a weenie.

Problem is, we grow up. We forget all about those simple rules. They get complicated. We get into drugs, get girls pregnant, ignore the girls we love for girls we kinda like. Get more girls pregnant, run away, find out we have a daughter and she's perfect.

Damn, when did I start wishing I could be six again? It's kinda freaky. And pathetic.

I pull the out the key card Leo gave me earlier and swipe it through the reader. The light turns green, and I open the door. It's like most other hotel rooms, with a gift basket in the corner and not enough towels in the bathroom. The only difference? It's my city outside the window, not some place I can barely remember the name of from all of the traveling.

My city. Huh. Funny how I spent so much time trying to forget it. Trying to forget and remember at the same time is kinda difficult. I won't be forgetting anymore, that's for sure.

No sooner than I flop down onto the bed, Jason bursts into my room. Why, again, do we always get adjoining rooms? Really cuts down on the privacy.

"Dude, where have you been? I've been listening to Cody and Kaycee flirt for the past three hours," he sits and starts spinning around in my… spinny-chair, uninvited.

"I had an interview, dumbass," I grimace, staring up at the ceiling. An interview, when I could've been talking to Ellie. When I could've met Holly… What made her pick Holly, anyway? It's a fine name, but I bet she gets teased at Christmas. That's gotta be annoying. _Deck the halls with boughs of Holly…_

"Damn. How come they never wanna interview _me_?"

"Cause you're just the guitar player."

"_Just_ the guitar player? I've backed you up on numerous occasions. Without me, you'd be stuck with Tweedledum and Tweedledee drooling over each other all the time and--"

"J, I didn't mean it as an insult. You _are_ just the guitar player."

"Oh," he blinks, "That isn't the point. It's the principle of the thing. How come everybody only cares about the lead singer?! I do backup vocals! I totally--"

"Probably because they're the face of the band, really. Or… the voice? And besides, we're not really even a band. We're Craig Manning."

"You mean _you're_ Craig Manning. We're just Craig Manning's Band."

"Er… yeah. Sorry."

"Are you okay, dude? You seem kinda off. And pissed."

"Pissed?" I raise my eyebrows. Who said I was pissed? Ellie always thought I got pissed for stupid reasons. That there were more important things in the world.

"You only call me a dumbass when your pissed. Or when I deserve it. And I didn't deserve it that time."

I choose not to argue Jason on that point, "Oh. Sorry."

"And you're distracted. You always bag on your interviews after… interviews. Like if the reporter was stupid or really hot or if they asked idiotic questions."

"So? I'm distracted. Whatever," I shrug, staring back up at the ceiling. Jason spins around in the chair again. He's going to get dizzy soon and throw up all over my carpet (he has a very low tolerance for spinning, as I learned firsthand at a fair in Quebec). _Then_ I'll be pissed.

"So what's up?"

I sigh, sitting up on the bed and staring at him. He stops spinning, facing me as well. Maybe if I get this off my chest, it'll be easier.

"Okay. I sorta… met up with one of my old girlfriends today."

"Dude! Seriously?" now he's grinning, "Did you guys hook up?"

"No. She's… mad at me. Or she doesn't trust me, at least."

"Why? Most girls jump all over you."

"We had… a complicated relationship. She wasn't ever my girlfriend, really. We were best friends and both of us wanted to be more than that, but… we never really were. There were… other girlfriends involved, and drugs and… drumsticks," I smile slightly, remembering the night of the wedding.

"So she's mad cause you broke her heart? Seems kinda stubborn to me."

"Like I said, it's complicated. _Really_ complicated," I decide not to tell him about Holly. I don't think he'd blab to anyone, but you never know. It's better to be safe and just not talk about it for now, "Anyway, I was making a little headway, apologizing and stuff. And then I had to go see Leo and this stupid interview…"

"I don't see the big deal. Just go see her tomorrow or something. Call her. You're like… the hook up _god_. This should be a piece of cake."

"She isn't like all those other girls, Jason. She's… important to me."

He whistles low, beginning to spin in the chair again, "So… it's serious."

"Yeah. Kinda."

"Well, I don't have much experience with 'serious'. Or ex-girlfriends. So I'll just go play X-Box, if that's okay with you," he says happily, hopping off of the chair and stumbling for a few seconds before gaining his footing again and heading for the door.

"Whatever," I watch the chair keep spinning. He didn't even bother to set it right before he left it behind… kinda like… never mind, "One thing. Don't tell Leo."

His hand pauses on the doorknob, "Why not?"

"He doesn't exactly approve of girlfriends. More like one night stands."

Jason grins, "Last time I checked, that's the way you felt too."

One night stands used to be the way to go. Look at Manny, Ellie, handfuls of girls after them. Maybe I got other girls pregnant too. Maybe I have a bunch of kids out there with little pieces of me. I've left a piece of me all over the world, with the biggest piece resting here, right under my nose.

"I guess… things are changing."

- // -

_Tada!!! Does anyone else think Craig is as thick-headed and stupid as I do?? Seriously. I just can't make him feel guilty about the whole thing... yet. I mean, if I left my girlfriend behind with a baby and practically ruined her life (which would be amazing, since I'm a girl...), I'd feel pretty guilty! But nope, not Craig. That's just who he is. Don't worry, it'll come to him eventually. It just needs to slowly drill a hole into his skull before it can get in there... :) Ellie, on the other hand, is free to feel as guilty as ever. She's felt guilty for thirteen years. They both need some balancing out, no?_

_I hope you liked it! Review! ~ Molly_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_**Ellie**_

__I get off work around four. After a little grocery shopping, I head over to the local junior high school to pick up Holly. Normally she would be home by now, but she has soccer practice. Even though she dresses a little like me, my daughter is much more involved in extra carriculars than I ever was. I can't imagine why. Team sports never appealed to me; still don't. They're kind of boring, too. Of course, it's completely different when someone you know is playing. I keep worrying she'll get kicked in the face or something.

At the end of practice, Holly bounds over to the car, throwing her backpack and duffel bag into the back before planting herself in the passenger seat. She reaches down to untie her cleats, but I stop her before she has a chance.

"You are not taking those cleats off in this car! They'll stink!"

"But mom!"

"No. At home. And you'll leave them _outside_."

"But _mom_!"

"Holly."

She huffs, buckling her seatbelt as I back out of my parking space. Her hair is just like mine. Hers is a little longer than mine ever was, and she always wears it up in some kind of ponytail. When she was younger, I would french braid it for her. That was quite a feat. Normal braids were always difficult enough for me. There was a reason I gave them up after my sophomore year, and not just because I heard the Pippi Longstockings joke one too many times.

"So how was school?"

"Okay. I sorta… failed my math test."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I guess an 81 isn't failing, but it might as well be!"

Not even close to failing, actually, but she's always been particular about her grades. Anything below a ninety, and she mopes around the house for hours. She's only in junior high. I can't wait to see how she handles high school.

"That's okay. Algebra can be hard when you're first learning it."

"That's what you say every day!"

"Because I'm right."

She smiles slightly, "Amber broke up with Will."

"Good. You're too young to be dating, anyway."

"All parents say that. It's even worse when you say it, cause you're _way_ younger than all of my friend's moms."

Is that something to be proud of? Sometimes, Holly forgets I had to drop out of college because of her.

"So the other night at the concert, I got to talk to Craig Manning," she grins.

I had been hoping she wouldn't bring this up. What if she suspects something? What if she figures it out? I'm not ready for that yet. So I do the only thing I can. I play along, just like always, carefully avoiding any lies.

My eyes grow big in mock shock just to psych her out, "Really? You didn't freak out on him, right? Because a lot of times girls turn into complete stalkers and pledge their undying love and--"

"Mom, ew! He's _old_! And no. I was a mature, young adult. Stop laughing!" I can't help snickering once or twice. One, because she called Craig old (but then again, that means _I'm_ old…), and two, because how weird would it be if she had a crush on her father? Disturbing, actually. Maybe I should've thought about that before I let her put his poster on her wall… "Anyway, we were talking and he said he knew you! From school or something."

Damnit. He is _such_ an idiot.

"We went to Degrassi together," I brace myself for the screaming, hoping it won't come. It doesn't, thankfully. At least, not as bad as I imagined.

"I can't believe you never told me! God, that school is so awesome! I can't wait to go there!"

Holly at Degrassi? I'll wait a few years, thank you. Maybe I can send her off to military school, or a private school in England or something. I bet Craig could afford it. Ash was right when she said Degrassi was cursed. I survived, but there was enough drama to last a lifetime. Having a teenager _and_ having said teenager attend Degrassi? No thank you.

"I didn't think it was a big deal, Hol."

"Were you guys friends? Did you ever _date_?!"

Not exactly… but I'd like to save that story until she's twenty-one.

"No. I knew him, but I didn't _know him _know him," I feel bad for lying to her, but in a way I have to. I don't want her to know about Craig yet. Especially when he's still an addict.

"But you have those pictures--"

"Fine, we were friends!"

"Mom!" her screech makes me wince.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were in love with him!"

"I'm not…" she trailed off, "It was weird, though. He asked how old I was and stuff, and who my dad was. It was kind of stalker-ish, but I just figured he wondered what happened to you. Like, when you got pregnant and stuff, right?"

My heart rate goes up a notch, "Yeah, probably. Craig was always a little weird," Sort of stupid of him to ask her those things flat out. What if it makes her curious? She's _smart_, for a thirteen year old.

She's silent for a minute, "So do you, like… have his phone number?"

"Holly!"

"What?! I'm sorry."

"This is going into stalker territory."

"Okay, okay. I'll shut up."

I shake my head as we pull into the driveway. His phone number? God!

Just as I'm thinking this, my cell phone rings. I yell at Holly as she runs up the driveway, "Help with the groceries!"

"Groceries?! Pop tarts?!" it's all I hear before she comes running back, loading her arms with bags. The faster she gets everything inside, the faster she can eat. I bought four boxes this time, just in case, instead of the usual two.

I pick up the phone quickly, gathering up paperwork from the office before heading inside, "Hello?"

"Ellie. Hi."

I can't help smiling, "We were just talking about you."

"We? You mean… does she know?"

"No, no," I pause as Holly brings in the last of the groceries, digging through the bags until she finds her pop tarts. Then she retreats to her room, "Do your homework! And I want to see that math test, young lady!"

"Yes, Overlord," she shouts before slamming the door to her room.

"Sounds like fun," he laughs.

"You have no idea. But no, she doesn't know. We were just talking about the concert and how she met you. I told her I knew you in high school and we were friends, that's all."

"Okay. Are you… going to tell her?"

"I don't know," I sigh, starting to put some of the food away. I still feel a little weird talking to him. He's in some fancy hotel while I'm in a middle class ranch house. We haven't spoken in years. His voice brings me back to guitar picks and ripped blue jeans. He tears the years away, and suddenly I'm a senior in high school, crushing so hard it hurts. It makes everything that much more difficult, because I'm _not_ eighteen. I'm thirty-one. I'm _old_, "I'm still trying to figure it all out."

"That's okay. Really. I don't want to push you."

"How considerate of you," I smirk, "She wanted your phone number."

"My phone number?!"

"Though she swears she doesn't have a crush on you. How disturbing would that be?"

"_Beyond_ disturbing…"

"So why are you calling?"

"Can't I just call and talk to you?" he tries to sound innocent, but it won't work. Maybe at one point in time, he could've just called to talk, but not anymore.

"No."

"Fine. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out this weekend."

"Hang out?" It's so… juvenile. What a little boy says when he's asking a girl to come over and play video games. He always was immature.

"Yeah. A _date_, I guess… but it only has to be a date if you want it to be."

I drop the loaf of bread from my hand. He's treading carefully, isn't he? He knows if he wants to see Holly, he has to get through me first. He's trying to be romantic, to take me on dates and kiss me on the front step, like he never did in high school. He's pretending he loves me, once again. Did he ever love me?

"Sure, we can _hang out_. I suppose. No dates. I don't trust you."

"I know," he sounds sad when he says it, but how do I know that's not just an act, too? "So… see you Friday?"

"Yeah. Friday."

The call ends. I set the phone on the counter, picking up the bread and setting it back on the counter. My mind is spinning.

He wants to get back into my life? He'd better be ready to jump through hoops. Flaming hoops, with twenty pound weights strapped to his back. Because if I've learned anything since I was nineteen, it's that Craig Manning is bad for girls. Especially me.


End file.
